Chaos Reigns
by NoMoreTears
Summary: His plans were working. The sociopath needed someone to help him make them all suffer. She was more than willing.
1. Chapter 1

**I kinda wrote this on a whim. It was one of those things that just flowed out, and I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do with this yet, but I guess we'll just have to see where it goes, won't we?**

**I hope you like it. Thanks for reading. **

* * *

Madness. Absolute madness.

I came here five months into the school year, and judging by the looks on the faces of the staff members, all hope had been abandoned for this place and its inhabitants. I had heard things about this school long before I was even sent here. Things were going down the proverbial toilet—and the literal one as well, as I caught sight of a student's head being dunked into what I hoped for their sake was clean water—and I was reluctant to take part in its downfall in any way, shape or form. I made that very clear to my mother and father, but my protest was ignored, and I was carted off in a cab and dropped off at Bullworth's doorstep.

The school seemed eager to take in another pissed off teen with Daddy issues, and I was sure to fit in with the rest of the lot that occupied this infamous school.

So I entered the cafeteria, a stack of new textbooks in hand, and nearly begged Ms. Danvers not to leave me at the foot of the stairs, alone, as fights ensued in just about every inch of the room. The old hag took off, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she ran away from the room. An apple flew past my head and I shrieked, ducking behind the wall to hide on the stairs, peeking out every so often to see if things had died down, but with no such luck.

It was somewhat horrifying, how violent they were, like rabid animals escaped from their cages. I had seen more than my fair share of fights, even participated in a few myself, but never have I seen this many, this much concentrated violence, and with no consequence at that. No teachers were rushing through the halls to break them up, the school's security guards' attempts were reaching the point of futility, and all I wanted to do was leave. Already.

And not go back to my dorm, but home. Back to Pennsylvania where I sort of belonged, with my loser friends, where nothing ever happened. I had never thought I'd long for monotony, but this was insane. Less than two hours here and I was sick of the place, and I knew I couldn't go back home. I couldn't call my parents and tell them the people here were out of their minds, that this was a mistake and I forgave them for sending their only child some place so horrible. No. All I could do was walk away and hide in my room for the remainder of the day. Good enough.

"Look at these monkey's," A voice said from beside me, and I gasped for the second time today, my hand planted firmly over my heart to keep it from beating out of my chest. "So eager to beat the crap out of each other."

I glanced over toward the boy. He had a prideful glint in his eyes as he looked on, the faintest of smiles curving his lips. "They never change."

"Of course they don't. Change requires effort," I mumbled, wiping a discolored glob of something off the sleeve of my shirt. Fearing it would stain, I headed back up the stairs and toward the bathrooms, hoping to get most of the crud off before I ruined the dress shirt my mother made abundantly clear she had spent a lot of money on.

A grunt was the only response he made, and I took that as the end of our very brief conversation which I could not have possibly been more relieved for as I wasn't particularly in the mood for communicating with anyone, much less this scarred boy who seemed up to no good even though he wasn't actually doing anything. He had a mischievous air about him, and I warned myself to steer clear of him, of anyone else like that. It was far too easy for me to get sucked in to the trouble maker's crowd and I wasn't about to screw up the good reputation I worked hard at attaining my sophomore year.

I soaked a wad of paper towels under the faucet and pumped a considerable amount of soap onto the mound of grey paper. It smelled of perfume, and not the good kind either. Cheap old lady perfume that was too strong for my taste. It would have to do for now, at least until I could throw my shirt into the wash.

The bell rang as I entered the hall, disappearing into the sea of students that filed out of their classrooms, and I pulled the schedule out from my folder, searching for the class I was to attend, hoping for it to be something that would pique my interest enough to keep me from skipping, but who was I kidding? Almost everyone here seemed old and uptight and there was no way in hell that I could imagine any of them making classes the least bit enjoyable.

Art. I sighed. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

If I remembered correctly, the class was on the second floor, and according to the clock on the wall at the end of the corridor, I had about two minutes to get there.

I never had the chance to find out whether or not it would have actually been a good class, for the moment I reached the stair case in front of the main office, the speakers crackled and Ms. Danvers' voice flooded the halls. Movement came to a slow stop as we all paused to listen to what the secretary had to say.

There was an assembly we were all to attend, and if the sharpness of her words were anything to go by, the woman was not happy. At all. I surmised it had something to do with the free-for-all in the cafeteria that I luckily escaped, and I followed the mass of uniformed mongrels to the auditorium, eventually finding myself face to face—well, shoulder to shoulder, really—with the scarred boy again. He seemed to take notice of me, the only indication of his acknowledgment of my being there a slight nod of his head.

A prefect stood against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, a heated glare directed at the boy next to me. He smiled at the guard, earning a deep scowl in return.

I was jostled around the center aisle as the students scrambled to find seats next to their friends, and I let them cut ahead of me; it didn't matter. There was no one for me to sit with. I didn't know anyone, and I didn't care. I was just happy I didn't have to go to class.

The principal approached the podium, his posture straight and stiff. Even from my spot in the back of the room I could see the angry lines framing his lips, between his eyes, only deepening when the students failed to quiet the moment he crossed the stage. Some cheered, others booed. I sank deeper into my seat.

"I am very disappointed with you all today," He started, staring out into the crowd. Crabblesnitch remained quiet for a moment as if to let his words sink in and fill our adolescent minds with guilt. "It took the entire Bullworth PD to put an end to your fighting, and not without several officers being struck. I cannot fathom what would drive you all to act like such animals. After the incident two years ago, I thought we had made progress. It seems otherwise, and I am not happy about that."

A few disembodied _whatever's_ floated through the crowd, earning an aggravated huff from the dean, and a chuckle from the student beside me. No one was taking this man seriously, and Crabblesnitch knew this. I know, because he said it at least five times, expressing his dissatisfaction with that very fact, and proposed something that was sure to get his unruly students back in line.

"All privileges are suspended. No student is allowed to leave campus, no matter their age, or their social status," He said sternly. "If I have to treat you all like children, I will, and like a parent takes away their children's toys when they behave badly, I will take away what you hold dear: your ability to leave. I'll have you all confined to school grounds until you learn to keep your noses clean."

The atmosphere had certainly changed. The student body had gone from apathetic to hateful in a split second, and you could feel it. It was stifling, and I felt like with one more provocation, it would take more than Bullworth's police department to end what chaos would be sure to unfold.

"Go back to your dorms. Classes are canceled for the rest of today, and if I hear that any of you are giving our dear staff trouble, I will not hesitate to have you suspended," Crabblesnitch bellowed into the microphone. He was laying down the law, and making this all the more serious. "You're dismissed."

"Hey, new kid!"

I paused at the sound of the familiar voice and looked around. I found him standing off to the side near the soda machine by the front doors, an unopened can of soda gripped in his hands. I cut through the dwindling mob of teens and stood before him.

"Yeah?"

"First day here and already you're on lock down. How's that feel?" He questioned, his dark eyes sizing me up.

I shrugged. "It's not like I'm the only one stuck here. Besides, I don't really care."

"Oh, you don't?"

"Nope," I answered, turning and walking down the stairs after catching the sight of a rather muscular and pissed off looking prefect.

"And why's that?"

"What's it matter to you?" I asked, glancing his way while we made the short trek to the dorms. My words came out harsher than intended, even though it wasn't that nice a response to begin with, but I hadn't wanted to sound _that_ bitchy. I shook my head. "I didn't want to come here, so it doesn't matter that I can't traipse about town when I please."

He rolled his eyes. "That's the attitude of just about every idiot here. No one willingly comes to this school."

_Why would they? _I thought. So far, this school has lived up to its reputation.

"So, does the new kid have a name?" He asked, sounding disinterested.

"She does. My name's Erin."

"I'm Gary."

We reached the small square between the boy's and girl's dorms and stopped, turning to face each other.

"Gary. Nice to meet you. Tell me, why have I bumped into you so many times today?"

"A guy can't take interest in a new student?"

"No. I've come to learn nothing's ever that simple."

Gary quirked a brow. "I don't have very many friends here anymore. You're new. I take what I can get."

"Well, gee, you sure know how to make a girl feel special," I scoffed.

"That wasn't my goal anyway."

"What a charmer. I can see why you don't have any friends."

"You haven't been all that pleasant, either," He said. "With your demeanor you'll be just as alone as I am."

"After today, I think I'll be okay with that."

Gary laughed. "You say that now, but you're going to need a friend eventually."

"Are you suggesting that we be friends?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. Merely stating a fact."

"Right. I'll see you around, Gary," I said over my shoulder. "But hopefully not too soon."

* * *

I was living with a behemoth of a tyrant.

For someone so fat, so unappealing to the eye, you would think the girl would try to make up for it with some semblance of a decent personality. But Eunice was a bitch. A big, fat, entitled bitch. She was quick to designate the areas of the room I was allowed in, what books I could read of hers—most of them I noted were cheap romances you could find on the shelves in a supermarket, I only knew that because my grandmother had a vast collection of them—and the girl I made damn sure I didn't touch her stash of chocolates. Eunice mumbled something about low blood sugar, but I figured that was a lie, and I didn't care either way, but made a mental note to trash the shit should she piss me off.

My other roommate was much less abrasive, quite the opposite actually, for which I was thankful, and took it upon herself to sprawl out on the end of my bed. She eyed me silently while I unpacked my suitcase that had been set on the bed along with a small stack of uniform shirts, mostly sweaters and polos, and I tucked my luggage underneath the bed.

"I think I recognize you," The girl said finally, chewing her bottom lip and wagging a manicured finger in my direction. "Yeah...I saw you in a magazine once. You're that plastic surgeon guy's daughter!" She nearly squealed upon her realization and excitedly pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet.

Dr. Peter Kastner, plastic surgeon to the stars, and bastard father extraordinaire. He wasn't really a bastard. My father was quite a nice guy, actually. I only called him once because he wouldn't let me live with him, insisting that I was better off with my mother and her husband in our middle-of-nowhere town, and that LA was no place for a kid like me, no matter how much I begged.

He hoped to make up for it by sending me here.

I think I know who's up for a Father of the Year Award nomination.

"Oh, I must have shown my Daddy that article about a hundred times," She babbled on. "I remember being so jealous of you, having a dad like that. He must be wonderful. Have you ever gotten any work done? I wish I could."

"Uh, no, I haven't had—"

She ignored me and continued speaking as if I hadn't said anything. "Oh, the other Preps are going to love you, we've always wanted someone who had connections with a surgeon."

"Preps?" I asked, sitting down on the bed. I kicked my sneakers off and crossed my legs.

"Yeah. The Preps. We're the wealthy, upper class students here at Bullworth."

"Okay, but you actually call yourself that?" I asked, a small chuckle escaping my lips. "What other little gangs do you have here?"

"We're not a _gang_, just a group of people of a better class. And we've got a few cliques. The Nerds, Jocks, Bullies, and the Greasers," She added with a hint of disdain in her tone.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Really? The Greasers? Jeez, I wasn't aware we were in the 50s still. But alright, I guess."

"We don't take them very seriously either. They're all dirt poor jerks."

"And I'm guessing I should stay away from these horrible poor people."

She shrugged. "Most of us do, but I have to admit... I find poor people very...interesting," She waggled her brows suggestively. "But don't tell anyone I said that. Derby would have a fit if he found out."

"You have my word," I gave a mock salute.

She smiled. "My name is Pinky, by the way."

"Erin," I reached over and shook her outstretched hand.

"Erin, what do you say we leave this oaf to herself and visit Harrington House?" Over her shoulder I spotted Eunice perched on the edge of the bed glowering at the back of Pinky's head.

I didn't have time to decline, to do anything, because her hand wrapped around my wrist and yanked me out of the bed and into the hall. Pinky yammered on about how the prefects wouldn't bother us if we left the dorms—the perks of having money, she explained—and we set off for our destination which was halfway across campus, and riddled with haughty teens, some of them sporting obviously fake British accents.

Pinky presented me to her lot of friends and they crowded around me, a spectacle to be poked and prodded at, questioned to the nth degree and warily accepted into their fold upon learning I came from a rather wealthy background. They openly expressed their doubt of my financial status. Apparently I hadn't looked the part, there was no way someone who looked like me could be anything above middle class.

After the tenth comment about my looks, I'd had enough.

"I'm sorry, really, that my appearance doesn't scream Rich Douchebag, but I assure you, I'm just as wealthy as the rest of you. I chose to live modestly, and if that's an issue, I'm sure there's better people for me to surround myself with," I fumed and took a step back from Pinky and her sweater vest clad friends.

Pinky swatted at the head of a boy and he cringed. "See what you guys did! Now she hates us."

I sighed and listened to Pinky mumble something unintelligible to the boys surrounding her, and after a moment of watching their faces fall and scrunch up in frustration, a smaller boy of about my height stepped forward and cleared his throat. The words were reluctant to leave his lips, and I sensed what he was going to say, and that he wasn't the type to normally say it, but who could refuse when you had a girl standing behind you ready to bitch slap you every time you made the wrong move.

"Erin, is it?" I nodded. "Yes, well, Erin, I apologize for the comments my friends and I made. It was rude, I admit, and I hope you'll be nice enough to allow us a second chance."

Every part of me wanted to say 'Nope, screw you rich kids, I'm outta here,' but Pinky's heartbroken expression made it hard to force the words out, and I groaned loudly and accepted their apology.

"Oh, fantastic!" Pinky cried. "It's going to be so great having a girl here. The closest thing I have to one is Gord, and he can be quite cranky sometimes."

"Hey!" Gord whined and shot a glare at her.

Pinky winked at me. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but smile. Pinky didn't seem so bad, and after spending some time with her and her friends—and getting over how snobby they could be, whether intentional or not—it seemed as though I could have a fairly decent group of friends.

It might not be so hellish after all, and I guessed Gary was right; I was going to need friends. I didn't know what I would do if I was alone and stuck in my dorm with Eunice. That nightmare of a human being shouldn't be endured alone.


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't get it! He never treats us like this. Like those...those poor people," Pinky seethed. She paced about the common room in Harrington House, griping incessantly over complaints spoken by the entire student body. "Crabblesnitch can't lock us up like animals."

The only difference was, most of them couldn't afford to pay off Crabblesnitch and the prefects on a regular basis, enough to grant them access to town and all its stores. He wouldn't have it, though, and denied them their usual special treatment. He had meant it that day, that no one would be leaving until they had learned to keep their noses clean.

A little over a month into our punishment, and still no one had learned. Bullworth had turned into a battleground and it was every man—and woman—for themselves, and I had to give it to the old man; he held his ground. Admirable, considering the savages that occupied this forsaken place.

"Well, technically he can," I said from my spot on the end of the couch, half expecting the sound of tires screeching to fill the room as she came to an abrupt halt near the stairs. The look on her face was one meant to instill fear into the hearts of those who fell under her infuriated gaze, and from beside me I heard Tad mumble a sympathetic _good luck _and I knew I'd need it, but still swatted at his arm anyway.

"Are you agreeing with the torture he's putting us through?" Pinky marched across the room toward me, a finger accusingly pointed at my face.

"Now, is it only torture for you and the other rich kids, or..." I trailed off, watching her face turn a deeper shade of red. My grave was getting deeper by the minute, and I didn't mind. "But to answer your question, no, I don't agree with it."

A _hmph _was her only response, and I stayed planted on the couch while she headed up the stairs without another word. Pinky was angry, everybody was angry, and I took her disappearing as my chance to do the same. It had grown boring just sitting there for hours while the other Preps drank themselves into oblivion, grumbling about how they were missing another sale or an opportunity to race their expensive bikes, and all I could think about was whether or not I had a decent enough internet connection to catch up on all the shows I was missing.

I ducked out before my roommate could return, and waved my goodbye to Tad on the way out of the Preps' sanctuary, tugging my sweatshirt on over my uniform shirt as I stumbled down the stairs toward the fountain. It was unusually quiet this afternoon. I was used to seeing everyone running about as if there were some horrid creature chasing them, but not today. They all looked as if someone had kicked their collective puppy, and I wondered if they had lost the will to fight, to rebel against the evil Dr. Crabblesnitch after realizing their attempts were futile. So far.

Or maybe it was the weather, all grey skied and cold, it wasn't at all pleasant out. Not that it had been anyway, having been in the heart of winter. Still, a week without sun can get to a person.

The walk to the library was an uneventful one, and I thanked whoever was listening that it was. The quiet was longed for after spending most of the day listening to Pinky's high pitched voice. Granted she was great company, one can only take her in small doses, and after today, I think I might have finally OD'd.

I could feel the heat radiating from the inside of the building before I even opened the door, and I began tugging off my sweatshirt, knowing I wouldn't need it once I was inside. The smell of sweat, cheese, and cheap soda hit me like a slap in the face as I walked in.

"Disgusting," I said to myself, nearly jogging past the tables filled with above average intelligence students. You'd think with how smart they are, they would know the importance of personal hygiene.

My legs carried me up the flight of stairs and to the lone table hidden behind the bookshelves, and I plopped down, resting my head on the cool surface.

I didn't know how long I was sitting there, or just how tired I actually was, until I felt the sharp sting of someone's finger nail against my forehead and jolted upright, bleary eyed and ready to cram my foot up the ass of whoever decided it was a good idea to flick me. I followed the sound of snickering to a shelf just a few feet away and rounded the corner, finding a familiar scarred boy standing with his back to the wall.

Gary grinned at me, and it took every ounce of restraint I had left in me not to kick the laughing boy in the shins.

"Besides being a dick, what reason do you have for waking me like that?" I asked, pulling a random book off the shelf.

"Why not? I thought it was funny."

"You're not the one who got flicked in the face."

"Exactly."

I rolled my eyes. "So what hole have you been hiding in for the last few weeks? I haven't seen you in a while."

"Not surprising, considering you've shacked up with those rich kids," He said, a hint of contempt in his voice. "You don't look like the Preppie type to me."

"Oh? And here I thought I screamed Pretentious Asshole. Disappointing," I sighed. "And to think I thought I actually fit in for once."

Gary smirked. "With them? Not with the way you look."

I glanced down at myself. He wasn't exactly wrong about that. I wasn't as prim and proper as they were, if at all really, which was often the topic of discussion whenever I accompanied the lovely Pinky on the days she hung around Harrington House. I had grown used to the comments, and they to my snapping and insistence that I would not dress myself in their ridiculously overpriced clothes.

I shrugged. "Yeah...anyway," I trailed off, searching for something to say. I had nothing. There was nothing going on, nor the possibility of anything exciting with the school being locked down, and so I was left with a short list of conversation topics.

"This place is boring," Gary blurted after a long moment of silence.

I looked up at him. "You have something better in mind?"

His face lit up. "I thought you'd never ask."

Without another word Gary took off toward the stairs and I followed after him, stopping to collect my things, and met him at the doors. He looked rather impatient standing there in the cold, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, body stiff, his face fixed into a deep scowl. I almost asked what was bugging him, but lost the chance, as he ran off once more, and I had to rush to catch up with him.

I found him sitting in the bleachers at the top row, hidden behind the stone wall and the several inches of snow that covered it. The whole area was blanketed in white, untouched snow. It was the only thing beautiful here, and I wanted to run through it, mar the field's pristine white face with tracks made by my muddied shoes.

"Hey, idiot, I'm over here," Gary called, and I turned around. He was hunched over with his arms wrapped around his sides. As I neared him, I could see his face had turned red from the cold. I thought about returning to the library for his sake—I enjoyed the cold to an extent—but knew we'd only be told to leave a short while after. It was getting close to curfew, made earlier, hours earlier, and we'd have to return to our dorms soon.

I'd have to enjoy my freedom while it lasted, even at the expense of his well being.

"I know where you are," I said, sitting down on the row in front of him. "So, this is what you do for fun?"

"Yeah, because I love sitting in the snow and freezing my ass off," He rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb to my right. "Have you ever explored this shit hole? Or have the Preppies kept you on too tight of a leash to do anything without them?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Shut up, Gary. And no, I haven't. What's there to explore?"

There it was again, that mischievous grin and I couldn't help but smile back at him, at the almost child-like excitement that filled him. I thought he might have started squealing.

"Come on. I'll show you."

I trudged alongside him through the deep snow, down a long trail that cut through the only forestry this crowded town has left, bumping into Gary every so often because I found myself gazing at the snow capped trees just a little too long, and I'd apologize quietly earning a shrug in return. Ten minutes into our walk I paused between two large boulders and asked him just where the hell we were going. It wasn't that great an idea to be wandering around in a remote area with a boy I barely knew, but it was something to do, and he didn't seem like that bad of a guy, or maybe I was just trying to rationalize another one of the many stupid things I've done.

Regardless, I was curious. "Hey, I asked you a question, you know."

"I'm aware of that," Gary said, continuing on ahead.

I began walking again. "Are you going to answer me?"

"Nope."

"At least give me some sort of an answer," I mumbled. "I've got no idea where we are."

"Relax. I'm not going to kill you or anything if that's what you're worried about."

"Something about your tone makes me not trust your words," I narrowed my eyes at him, and he laughed.

"This path leads to Happy Volts—"

"Isn't that the asylum?"

"Yes, but we can head into town through there, and finally do something interesting."

I shoved my freezing hands into the pockets of my jacket. "Like?"

He thought about it for a moment and then looked over at me, eyebrow raised. "How do you feel about disturbing the peace?"

"Oh, I'd love nothing more," I beamed. "Gary, I must say, you are a troublemaker after my own heart, now come on, you've got me all excited," I reached out and grabbed his wrist and dragged him along the trail as fast as we could move through the heavy snow. "You know, I don't have a clue as to where we're going."

He tore his arm from my grasp. "I didn't think so."

. . .

We emerged from the mouth of a tunnel that brought us to the edge of the fenced in property just a few feet away. The infamous Happy Volts Asylum. Gary glared at the building, making no attempt to hide whatever disdain he held for that place and I was glad I wasn't on the receiving end of his gaze.

Screams filled the air as we just about crawled around the perimeter of the asylum. The area was rife with orderlies, and in the event we were spotted, our punishment was sure to be more unforgiving than what Crabblesnitch had already doled out. Once we reached the road, we resumed standing, and ran the rest of the way into town.

By the time we reached the trailer park, my lungs were burning, and Gary looked no better. We were both cold, shivering in the December air, red faced and oozing noses. He pointed to a rack conveniently holding two bikes and we made our way toward it, our quick getaway out of this bad part of town.

New Coventry hadn't looked much better, with its abundance of hobos and stray animals, abandoned slums and garbage that smelled so rank I was afraid it might seep into my clothes. Luckily the ride wasn't that long and we were back in Bullworth. I had remembered driving through here the first day. It was the first thing I saw since I had slept most of the way, and it reminded me of the small town I had lived on the edge of for the last few years.

"I thought we were going to cause a little mayhem, not take a relaxing bike ride through town," I said, pedaling beside him. Gary and I weaved through the back roads to avoid police and the occasional adult that strolled around.

"You might just be more impatient than me," He shook his head. "Wait a few. Then we'll be at our destination."

So vague, I thought, and decided it was best to keep quiet the rest of the ride. If we had traveled this long, whatever he had in store had to have been at least mildly entertaining. Either that or he really was going to kill me.


	3. Chapter 3

He might not have been out to kill me after all, but the bitter chill may do me in at one point or another. As the day wore on it grew colder, and as we reached the Vale, the closer to the water we got, the colder the temperature became. I was shivering violently by the time I pushed off of the last rung on the ladder and flopped onto the roof of one of the shops lining the main road. Gary was seated on the ledge overlooking the pier. I watched for a moment before joining him, the snow gently falling around him, how quiet the town seemed to be save for the faint sound of the water lapping against the shore and the muffled voices of the adults walking the streets.

The scene may have been serene if it weren't for his fidgeting and I placed a hand on his shoulder in the hopes of getting him to relax. Bad choice on my part it appeared, for his head whipped around immediately and the expression he wore made it very clear he didn't like, nor want to be, touched. I raised my hands defensively.

"Sorry. Can I sit next to you at least?"

He didn't answer.

"Not like I care, I'm gonna do it anyway," I dusted the snow off of my would be seat and watched as the pile fell to the ground and landed on the head of an unsuspecting woman. She shrieked and wildly swatted at her clothing to get the snow off, all while cursing. I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress the laugh that threatened to force its way out.

Gary chuckled beside me. "Nice job."

The woman looked up at the two of us, shaking her fist. "Oh, I'm gonna get you!"

"Well come on then, you old hag, come and get us!" Gary yelled down at her and pushed another mound of snow, the frozen mass landing at her feet. He glanced my way, giving me a look that said '_Your turn'_.

"We're gonna get in so much trouble," I shook my head, smiling to myself as my hand sat at the base of another pile, just begging to be shoved like the rest.

"Isn't that the point?" Gary winked, a wicked smile on his face.

I needed no further convincing, and wiped the ledge clean of the packed snow, this time catching her on the neck. She squirmed and squealed while it slid down her back, soaking her clothes and freezing her skin. The woman was infuriated, so much so that she tossed her bags to the ground and picked something up off the ground, and it wasn't until I was hit above my left eye that I realized she was throwing rocks at us.

I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead, a streak of blood staining my pale skin. "That crazy bitch," I said, turning to show Gary my injury. "Look at that! She could've taken my eye out."

I spun around pushed off of the ledge, making quick work of shoving the accumulated snow toward where Gary and I were sitting and grabbed a fistful of it.

"This is war," I declared, and rained down upon the evil woman my icy, cold wrath. It didn't take long before Gary had joined in on the fun, and I had to commend him on his aim; she had taken many blows to the face, hard ones as she had red welts forming on her cheeks, and most of them were dealt by him.

Gary seemed to be enjoying himself, snickering and smiling as he formed one ball after the other, and eventually he directed his aim away from the woman and toward innocent passersby, ultimately dragging them into our snowball—and rock—fight.

Sirens wailed in the distance, and through the fog I could see the red and blue lights coming closer and closer toward us, toward the mob of angry people covered in snow and shouting up at the sky. They raised their fists at us, promising pain and well deserved punishment once we descended from our vantage point, and all Gary could do was laugh, lost in the moment.

I nudged him. "Cops, Gary, shit. Do you have any idea what Crabblesnitch will do to us if he finds out we left campus?"

He was still smiling at me when he dropped his hand and let go of the snowball that rested in his palm, but this time, it hadn't reached his eyes. "Don't worry, those pigs won't catch us, and the head will never know we left."

"They're getting awfully close, though," I said warily, staring up the road. Traffic had delayed their arrival to the scene and I couldn't have been anymore thankful. "We should get out of here. It's late enough, don't you think?"

"Aww, what's the matter? You afraid?" Gary pouted. "Quit being such a baby, Erin."

"Hey, look, it's that psychopath from Bullworth!" One of them shouted from the street, and I glanced over at him questioningly.

He was angry, and visibly so. Gary's posture had changed from lank and relaxed, to rigid and his deep brown eyes were narrowed into small, angry slits that focused on the vocal crowd with dark intent. He stood slightly hunched over, like a predator poised, awaiting the perfect moment to pounce on its prey. The people below raged on, shouting for the police now, for them to come and pick this deranged boy up before he caused anymore harm to the citizens of Bullworth.

"Gary, what are they talking about?" I took a tentative step forward, toward the ledge he braced himself against. "Gary?"

"It's none of your business," He snapped. "Let's get out of here."

Relief washed over me at his words. I wanted nothing more than to leave here before the police made it past the long line of vehicles just up the road. I couldn't get in trouble now. I pushed past Gary and began my descent, carefully setting my foot down on each rusty, ice covered rung. My caution had done little to help me, as my foot slipped halfway down and I fell onto the hard ground, ankle twisted into an unnatural position. It was a horrid sight, and I could feel the nausea coming on.

I tugged my foot from its spot as Gary hopped off of the ladder, landing at my side. I pushed myself up, trying to keep weight off of my injured foot and reached for the bicycle that leaned against the wall across from me.

"You're not going to get very far," Gary said as he climbed onto his bike. He sounded angry and I couldn't be sure whether it was directed at me.

"Oh, thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious," I hissed. "Now how the hell am I supposed to get back?"

Gary shrugged. "Not my problem. Have fun limping back to Bullworth," He said.

Gary kicked off and started pedaling down the alleyway. He reached the end before I yelled after him. "You're just going to leave me here? If I get caught, I'm taking you down with me, you asshole," I leaned into the brick wall.

He sat there at the edge of the alley, front tire peeking out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly his body turned and he pushed the bike in my direction, grumbling something along the lines of hindrance, and 'you're a pain in my ass', and he hooked his hands under my armpits and ordered me to hop up onto the handlebars with his assistance. I sat on the metal bar and glanced down at my ankle. It was swollen, and felt as though it was ready to burst through my sneaker. I'd have to go to the nurse when we returned. There was no way in hell that I would be able to hide this.

It took much longer for us to reach the tunnel outside of Happy Volts than expected, though it wasn't much of a surprise, with Gary having to pedal twice as hard to keep the both of us going at a decent speed to stay out of the eye of the police, which seemed to be everywhere now after the ruckus we caused earlier. Dark skies had settled overhead, making for a rather long, unsettling trek through the path leading to the football field. I limped behind Gary, staying close enough that I knew where he was, but far enough to give him an adequate amount of space.

Stadium lights illuminated the field, giving us a clear sight of the horde of prefects and staff that patrolled the area. They shuffled through the snow, all bundled in heavy coats and scarves, appearing not at all thrilled to be appointed to whatever task they had been assigned. I wondered if they were looking for us, or if this was a part of their usual nightly routine. I wouldn't have known; today was the first time I had actually gone outside and done something since my arriving here. Gary stopped short, just out of their line of sight.

"Do you know another way back to the dorms?" I asked him quietly. I dropped to the ground. I couldn't stand anymore, the pain had become unbearable.

He shook his head. "This is the only way. We have two choices," Gary started, gazing down at me. "We can either make a run for it, which guarantees you getting caught, or we can sit and wait until they leave."

I grimaced. Neither choice sounded all that appealing, but I supposed it'd be better to wait than to try and run past the pissed off looking prefects back to my dorm. "How long do you think that'll take?" I asked.

He leaned out into the light and squinted at his watch. "Curfew is in an hour," He sat down next to me, heaving a defeated sigh.

"So we wait," I groaned. I was tired, hungry and in pain, my mood matching his sour one, and rivaling its intensity. I'd had enough today.

"Looks like it, unless you want to risk it and bolt," He said, staring out at the field.

I laughed dryly. "My crippled ass isn't going anywhere."

Silence, weighted with exhaustion and annoyance, hung heavy in the air like fog, creating a rift between the two of us that I dared not try to cross, nor find another way around. The quiet was welcomed like an old friend with open arms and I relished it more and more with each passing second. Gary shifted around, constantly changing the position he sat in and the more he moved, the more noise he made. A low hum rumbled in the back of his throat while his fists drummed on the cold flesh of his thighs, and for the second time I placed my hands on him, grabbing his wrists and staring into his eyes, challenging him to say something in protest, to rip his hands from my own like a cranky child.

"It's late, I'm hurting like a motherfucker," I said evenly. "I do not need you twitching and making unnecessary noises next to me while I'm trying to stay calm."

"Are you trying to threaten me?" I felt his arms pull back, but I held them in place, tightening my hold on his cold skin.

"No. I'm warning you; if you keep it up, I will choke the living shit out of you." A smirk played on his lips. "Well aren't you a violent one." "Only when I need to be," I let go of him.

"Why, can't solve your problems with words?" He snickered. "You should be friends with Hopkins. You two would be great together."

I scowled at him. "I'm perfectly capable of using my words, I just prefer using my hands."

Gary raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Do you, now."

"Oh, shut up," I said, facing the field. The group numbers were beginning to dwindle. It shouldn't be much longer until we can begin moving again.

"Hey, you said it, not me."

"Earlier, on the roof," I began after a moment. "Why were they calling you a psycho? I know you basically told me to fuck off before after asking...but I'm curious."

"They're idiots, that's why they called me a psycho," Gary said quietly. His chin rested on his knees while he spoke. "It's not true."

"I'm sure it's not."

"Are you patronizing me?" He asked pointedly. His eyes stared into my own, and I wasn't sure if I shivered due to the bitter cold outside, or the chill his gaze sent through me.

"No, I'm not," I said. Gary quirked a brow and watched me silently.

"You've got no reason to believe I'm crazy."

"Yeah."

"Have you heard anything about what happened two years ago?"

"When the whole school went to hell? I heard about that, but what does that have to do with—" I stopped speaking as soon as everything clicked.

This was the infamous Gary Smith, the boy who had attempted to take over the school while making life miserable for everyone here. No wonder he had looked on so disdainfully at Happy Volts earlier today.

"So I guess you have heard about me."

"I guess I have," I nodded. Every nerve ending, every inch of my body was tingling. Electric. Alive with a newfound excitement. I cupped my hand over my mouth to hide the grin that was forming. This was perfect.

He laughed. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Afraid of you? No, I'm actually..." I paused and shook my head, thinking twice about the words that were about to come out.

"You're actually what?" He asked, leaning toward me slightly.

"Nothing," I said. His eyes narrowed.

"Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Doesn't seem like it," He said. "Spill it, rich girl."

"It's none of your business," I said, sticking my tongue out at him teasingly.

"If it's about me, I think it is my business."

"You're persistent, aren't you," I remarked, turning away from him.

"You've got no idea."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to anyone who's reading this, and to those that have favorite and/or followed. Reviews are much appreciated, and I hope you're liking the story so far. **

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Angry, beady eyes squinted at me through a pair of expensive, smudged glasses.

Approaching the prefect with caution, I put on my best innocent expression and politely asked if he would be so kind as to move his 'roid monkey frame out of the way. There were less than five minutes before class—History, which I didn't mind having first thing in the morning—and after sneaking away last night, I thought it best to play it safe and actually show up to class. For once.

With a sneer, he denied me my request, and I found it hard to maintain my pleasant disposition, and sighed heavily, hoping I could convey my annoyance without actually having to tell him to fuck off. The man reached out and grabbed my collar, wringing the soft fabric between his meaty fingers. I thrashed and yelled, soon realizing my movements and words to be fruitless and instead conceded to being paraded around the halls, a delinquent for everyone to point and laugh at.

And they did, some even going so far as to fling trash at me while we passed, and despite my protest, the prefect did nothing to stop them. At the end of the hall, I had at least three banana peels stuffed into my hood and the remnants of someone's breakfast trailing down my pant leg.

This wasn't a good start to the day.

We arrived at Crabblesnitch's office where he, and Ms. Danvers, stood before the high counter, both looking equally displeased. The prefect released me—it was more of a shove, really—and I stumbled forward, catching myself before I fell into the two in front of me. The prefect turned sharply on his heel and I half expected him to salute before leaving, and I steadied myself, holding my text book close to my chest while I waited for either of them to speak.

Dr. Crabblesnitch did first. "I have a meeting to attend; sit there until I tell you two to come in."

Confused and almost positive he couldn't be referring to Ms. Danvers as the second party, I glanced around the room and found Gary seated in the corner behind me. He scowled, and I frowned, knowing the two of us were in trouble. Deep shit.

I took a seat next to him after shaking the contents of my hood into the trash, and stayed quiet until Crabblesnitch was back inside his office, secretary seated at her desk. She clicked away at the keyboard and I desperately wished I could be listening to anything else other than her tapping and the god awful music playing from her stereo. I rubbed my ankle. It was much less painful than last night, but by no means healed, and felt stiff. Cold, from the newly fallen snow we all had to trudge through to make it inside.

Karma, I supposed, for doing the exact thing I swore to my parents I wouldn't do—cause trouble. Gary and I were lucky we got away before the police caught up, and I'd have to thank him again for deciding not to leave me in the alley, planted on my ass on the ice.

"You smell disgusting," Gary blurted. "Did you forget all that crap we were taught about personal hygiene growing up, or are you and your Preppy friends beyond that now?"

"I haven't forgotten how to bathe, jackass," I grimaced. "I'm covered in...something that looks vaguely like eggs."

"Vaguely being the keyword here. I'd say it looks more like dog vomit," Gary peeked down at my legs, studying the mashed up food like a painting. "Good chance it might be, too."

"What?" I stammered, horrified at the idea of having that soaking into my clothes.

He laughed aloud. I fought the urge to dry heave.

Ms. Danvers whispered harshly from her seat, demanding that the two of us be silent. Gary answered her, using something that was definitely not his inside voice, and I snickered, hiding my face behind my book the second the secretary's menacing gaze darted my way.

"You think they know?" I asked, shifting so that I was facing him.

"What else would they have brought us both in for? To get to know each other?" He snapped.

"Anything's possible."

"Don't be stupid."

"Don't be a prick," I countered.

Gary looked at me for a moment, his eyes narrowed into little slits. "You're getting on my nerves, woman."

"Good. I haven't lost my touch, then," I said, and settled deep into the surprisingly comfortable seat.

The doors to the head's office opened, inch by inch, until four men dressed in designer suits, two of them carrying brief cases, walked out. Crabblesnitch appeared behind them, smiling and trading pleasantries with the men, thanking them for their time and aiding him in his endeavors. Gary and I shot each other a look, wondering who the men were.

The group passed Gary and I, reeking of cologne and after shave. One of them smiled at us.

"You're in for a real treat, kids."

How ominous, I thought, and stared blankly at him until it set in that he wasn't going to receive a response. Crabblesnitch beckoned us into his office then, as the men sauntered out, flanked by prefects and I scowled. Why couldn't I have gotten that protection while I was being dragged through the halls? I silently declared injustice, and marched into his office, refraining from pointing my nose high in the air. An indignant attitude would get me nowhere.

"Sit."

The leather groaned under my weight, loud, echoing off the book lined walls. Behind us, a fire crackled, the smell of smoke wafting through the room. I breathed it in, and found myself missing home. A fire was always lit during the cold winter months, warming the first floor of the house. I would always sit before the fire place and watch the flames while they grew and flickered, casting an orange glow on the walls. As much as I wanted to do that now, my attention was on the old man in front of us, and the school nurse that stood at his side.

She set a metal tray on his desk, four small paper cups—two were filled with water, the others with small white pills.

"The two of you were missing yesterday. You caused quite a stir with the staff," Crabblesnitch said, folding his hands on the desk. "Might I ask where you disappeared to?"

"I was in the library," I answered quickly.

"And you, Mr. Smith?"

"I was in my room, keeping my nose clean just like you told me to. _Sir_," He added.

"That's funny, because neither of you were there when I sent the prefects to fetch you both. That concerns me, having two students like you just happen to disappear," The head stared at us both, and then continued speaking. "I won't have either of you causing trouble where there need not be any. I have worked tirelessly to restore order to this fine school after the mayhem you caused, boy, and I refuse to have either of you destroy the progress I've made."

The nurse cleared her throat. "The point of us having you here, is that you missed your therapy sessions. And your medication. We want the two of you to stay on track with your treatments to avoid any upsets."

"But I'm not on any medication. I don't even take Advil," I said to the nurse. "Or go to therapy."

"It's in my file, dear. We have you on Ziprasidone, and you have sessions every week with the school psychiatrist."

I shook my head. "I don't know where you're getting that from. I've never been to a therapist, or taken any meds. You're wrong."

"It's on your chart," She said, frowning and speaking in a sympathetic tone. "40 milligrams a day. Regardless, you'll begin your medication today, and every morning you'll report to my office. Both of you," The nurse glowered at Gary. "No skipping your pills this time."

The nurse pushed the tray toward us and gestured toward the cups, Gary and I reached out cautiously under their watchful eyes and choked the medication down. Crabblesnitch seemed pleased, a small smile resting on his lips. The expression looked odd on him, as I've only ever seen him looking annoyed.

"After your vanishing act yesterday, I believe a little work will do the both of you good, and keep you from menacing the other students," Crabblesnitch rose from his seat and rounded the desk, pausing between Gary and I to rest his hands on the backs of our chairs. "Erin, you'll be helping Ms. Danvers with whatever she asks of you. Mr. Smith... I'll find a suitable punishment for you."

"Oh, I can't wait," Gary said.

He dismissed us both with the strict instruction to head to class, and without another word, we left, rushing past Ms. Danvers on the way out.

The day just kept getting worse, along with my mood, and all I wanted to do was hit something. Or someone. I felt like my head was going to explode, and the more I focused on the image of the head's smiling face, the worse it became, and I shook his ugly mug from my thoughts and searched for something else to occupy myself with.

I thought about those men and wondered who they were, why they were here, and what 'treat' they had in store for us. Maybe working under Ms. Danvers wouldn't be such a bad thing; if I played my cards right, I could coax information out of her, and figure out what potentially shady business was going on.

"And here I thought you were one of the normal kids. You had me fooled," Gary said, nodding as we slowed to a halt in front of my locker. "Ziprasidone...they gave that to the crazies at Happy Volts. Just how nuts are you?"

"I'm not nuts," I hissed, fiddling with the lock. It wouldn't open, no matter how many times I twisted it, and I slammed my fist against the hard metal, instantly regretting my decision.

"Maybe not, but you are stupid," He pointed down at my hand. "Your knuckles are bleeding. Nice job, idiot."

I wiped the blood off on my sweatshirt and tried again—for the last time I promised myself—to open my locker.

"I need to change," I mumbled, looking down at the crusty mess on my leg. "Wanna come with me?"

I turned to face him after waiting for him to answer, and was met with empty air. How he managed to slip away that quietly, and quickly, was beyond me. I settled on returning to my dorm alone, thankful for some quiet time before the second half of classes began.


End file.
